


A Flash Of Light On A Rainy Day

by FrozenInSpace



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alcohol, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt!d'Artagnan, M/M, Worried!Athos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenInSpace/pseuds/FrozenInSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When d'Artagnan is hurt in a fight, Athos is left to realise just how much the young Gascon farm boy means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Flash Of Light On A Rainy Day

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. It's midnight and I can't sleep, and I need some fluffiness.

Athos was having a particularly bad night. 

Not only was he dealing with the memories of those events five years ago, but he was also trying to cope with the fact that d'Artagnan had been injured. Seriously. 

They had been given orders to capture a gang of thieves who had been terrorising half of Paris, and when they had finally caught up with them, they had found them to be exceptionally good fighters for who they were- not as good as Athos and d'Artagnan, but good enough to exhaust them both. 

When they believed they had captured them all, they put away their blades and turned back towards Paris, before one who was hiding, a particularly scrawny fellow with greasy hair and perhaps four remaining teeth, jumped out holding a small dagger, before plunging it into their young companion's shoulder. D'Artagnan had fallen in near silence, leaving Aramis to cut the Nan's throat while Porthos, the strongest of them all, hoisted the young Gascon onto his own horse, before they all rode urgently back to the barracks. 

D'Artagnan had been taken to Athos' quarters, the closest to the barracks, where Aramis had stitched him up with typically done needlework- the boy would barely have a scar. He was still unconscious, yet he was now sleeping, as had been evidenced by his moans about his horse (supposedly it had threatened his honour- Athos chose to put the mad ravings down to an infection which would clear up easily on its own and with the use of Aramis' special salve, which contained multiple exotic plants oils) and his apologies to his recently dead father. Currently, Aramis was keeping watch over him, so Athos had decided to take the time to drown his sorrows alone. Until Porthos came along and completely ruined his plans. 

'Thought you'd been cutting down?' The large man sat down next to him, jostling the table slightly, an empty smile on his lips and eyes full of concern. 

'I had been- I believe tonight calls for special measures.' Athos poured himself another glass of the brandy, a rare Armagnac.  
   
'You won't be any good to him drunk, y'know.'

'I'm not any good to him sober either. I'll let Aramis take care of him.'

'The boy idolises you, you realise. I'd be tempted to say he's half in love with you, even.'

Athos sat for a while, and stared. He had begun to accept that his feelings for the boy may be more than paternal (how could he ever love another woman after the fiasco that had been Anne?), but was preparing himself to completely ignore it. However, Porthos' judgement was generally right....

'And why would this be of any interest to me?' Athos fell to his usual reaction, defensiveness. 

'Aramis and I have both seen the way you look at the boy. In many ways, it's the same way he looks at me.' Athos had long been aware of their.....arrangement, which was frowned upon by most, yet Athos could hardly care. 

'You're right, I suppose. As usual.'

'Of course I am,' said the man, laughing, ' and I suggest you go check on him, before Aramis drinks all of your finest wine.'  
With that, Athos stood up, and walked out into the cold Paris night. 

It was but a five minute walk to his apartments from the public house, and he was now at his own door, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before walking in. He saw that the young Gascon was awake, and even joking with Aramis, who turned and welcomed him in. 

'Ah, brother, there you are. I was just telling our young friend about what happened after he passed out.'

'I did not pass out, I was knocked unconscious!' Ah, he was back to normal then. 

'I watched you. You fainted in the way most women do when I walk into a room.' The Hispanic man winked, picked up his hat, and made his exit, obviously deciding it was time for the two of them to be alone. 

'You know, you don't have to stand right by the door. It is your house.' With a grimace, d'Artagnan moved himself into a sitting position before patting the foot of the bed. Athos took his invitation and sat down, looking at the bandaging that Aramis had applied. 

D'Artagnan smirked. 'It's better than it looks, trust me.' 

Athos continued to stare, unsure where to start. 'I....I need to talk to you about something.'

'If this is about that missing bottle, I swear I was going to replace it....' What missing bottle?

'No, not that. I just wanted to say how relieved I am that you are recovering. Aramis truly is a master. Porthos says he has the hands of a seamstress....' He was babbling. He never babbled. 

'And I myself, Athos. But there's only one thing that could make me feel even better.' The Gascon's eyes seemed to have settled on his lips as he said those words.  
   
'And what would that be?' Athos' heart gave a sudden stutter. 

'Come closer, and I'll show you.' With that, the farm boy moved in, and gently pressed his lips against the older man's, as if he were gauging his reaction. 

Athos reacted instantly. He gently kissed back, careful not to hurt him, and moved his right hand to cup the boy's face. They stayed like that for some time, their lips a hair's breadth apart, before d'Artagnan pulled back, clearly satisfied with his reaction. 

'Thank goodness- I was terrified Aramis had been wrong!' 

'D'Artagnan, mon petit Gascon, I had no idea....'

'Well, now you do. And I'm glad that we've got over that hurdle, because now it makes what I'm about to ask you to do less awkward.' The boy shuffled over the bed awkwardly and gestured for Athos to join him. 'Come lie down with me- I'm extremely tired.'

' I'm not surprised. It's been a very long day.' Athos removed his boots and jacket, before lying down next to the younger man, staring at the face that had just kissed him. 'Come on then. Let's go to sleep, and pray that Porthos and Aramis don't decide to pay us a visit later.'

A few hours later, a particularly drunk pair of them walked past Athos' door, before looking into the window and noticing the pair, fast asleep, Athos curled around d'Artagnan protectively. The two smiled at each other, before returning to Aramis' apartments for some private time of their own. 


End file.
